


No Ordinary Woman

by LuxKen27



Series: By Request [7]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M, Family, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-18
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxKen27/pseuds/LuxKen27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sango battles her frustrations in unusual ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Ordinary Woman

**Author's Note:**

> _Author’s Note_ : Written for TigerKat24, for the 2010 fandom_stocking holiday exchange.
> 
> Disclaimer: The _Inuyasha_ concept, storyline, and characters are copyright Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Media.

~*~

Miroku had never thought himself an unusual admirer of women; he liked the same things about them that other men (less holy men, even) enjoyed: their poise, their grace, their charm, their spirit. For years he’d sought out the perfect vessel to carry on his lineage, a way to cheat fate should his family’s curse ultimately consume him. Others might call him indiscriminate, considering his propositioning of any and all eligible women, but he definitely had a _type_.

And she was the embodiment of his ideal, this woman he was finally able to call wife.

He loved to watch her, even idly. The lithe-like grace with which she moved, earned from years of hard, focused training with Hiraikotsu. Her quick reflexes, honed in battle, now mostly used to keep up with their three children. Her growing patience, even in frustration, borne of the deep-seated need for vengeance – but one that was constantly thwarted or otherwise delayed.

She was no ordinary woman, his Sango. She had embraced motherhood and domestic duties, even if she struggled to learn the womanly arts so many other village women had already mastered. When she tired of laundry and mending, of settling disputes between the twins or listening to idle gossip in town, she sought him out, a familiar gleam in her eye.

“Let’s go,” she’d say, cuffing his arm just above the elbow.

He’d grin, knowing exactly what she wanted.

They’d escape into the woods just beyond the village, into the forest that once bore Inuyasha’s name. There was a clearing they especially liked, not far from Goshinboku, just wide enough for the two of them under a cluster of dense overbrush. She would always make the first move, for this was her release – he was merely glad to have a role in it, such an intimate piece of her life.

Her body had undeniably changed following the birth of their children – her joints were looser, her muscles constrained, her body softer and wider than the lean slayer she had been. She’d worked hard to get back into shape, showing neither herself nor him mercy as she trained with singular focus.

She only brought out the weaponry when she needed stress relief, and today was such a day.

She’d chosen her wakizashi, an inheritance from her father. It was smaller and easier to carry than Hiraikotsu, and generally better for the sort of hand-to-hand combat she craved in order to vent her frustration. He knew her movements well enough by now to be able to parry successfully with his staff, but she kept him on his toes nonetheless. 

Their session was strangely quiet, devoid of all sound other than the quiet rattle of the rings of his shakujou and an occasional strain of movement. She was in rare form, cutting him no slack, sweat beading at her brow as she darted and blocked his blows. Her eyes were clear, her features etched into a thoughtful scowl, but she didn’t allow her inner turmoil to reign. He didn’t ask questions; he merely fought her with equal parity, knowing she’d stop when she was ready – when she’d had enough.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she was finished. She caught him in a surprise attack, pushing his staff from his hands and blocking him from reaching it, hauling him back against a tree, her blade at his throat. She breathed heavily against him, staring down at him triumphantly, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Remind me again how it is that I’m the one slaying demons these days?” he murmured wryly.

“Just luck, I suppose,” she responded, pulling away and sheathing her sword. 

She retrieved his staff, giving him a moment to recover himself. As she drew closer, he eyed her thoughtfully, wondering if he should broach the subject of her wrath. Generally she didn’t like to speak about her frustrations with the villagers or the children, but sometimes she could be candid.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he finally asked, drawing her into a loving, if sweaty, embrace.

She sighed, laying her head against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Not really,” she replied.

“Okay,” he demurred, knowing better than to push. She worked things out in her own way, in her own time; it was enough for him that he could comfort her in the aftermath. He reveled in the way her body felt next to his, long and lean and oh, so trusting. 

Another smile pulled at the corners of his lips. Sometimes these sparring matches led to other fun, intimate things as well…

She pulled away before he could grow too attached to the idea. “We should return,” she said, her voice tinged with the slightest hint of worry. “Inuyasha’s not the best baby-sitter in the world – ”

“Pfft,” Miroku broke in teasingly. “He needs all the practice he can get, before his own come into this world.”

She smiled at him, a genuinely happy smile, her expression full of mirth. “True enough,” she conceded, reaching for his hand, “but I miss my babies.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “So do I,” he agreed, his words muffled against her lips. “Let’s go home.”

She was no ordinary woman, his Sango. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
